


All that was me is gone

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: “Might you have forgotten him in time?” her husband asked softly, those soft eyes that had convinced her to take a chance on love again boring into her.Sansa swallowed, unable to look upon his kind face as she admitted the truth that she had always truly known despite her deepest efforts to forget.“That amount of time doesn’t exist.”Belated response to "quote" prompt for Jonsa dream of spring.





	All that was me is gone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the quote in Outlander ("Would you have forgotten him with time?" "That amount of time doesn't exist.") Pure angst and Jonsa are not together in the end. Sorry, I just really had the angst feels today and I think it's actually helped me get over the whole finale disaster tbh lol.

Sometimes, she thought that she was happy, truly happy.

She had a loving husband, a beautiful and healthy daughter. She had her home, her safety. In three years, there had not been any trouble between the North and the six kingdoms.

Sometimes, she only had to tell herself half a lie.

She was happy, she was. But she wasn’t complete, not truly.

And she hated how her husband knew deep down that there was a part of her he could never have, a part of her was out of reach, beyond the wall, wherever Jon was.

She did love her husband too, as much as was possible while longing for someone that was never hers to have. But he wasn’t Jon and that only made her hate herself more because this was a man who had never harmed her, only ever treated her with respect and kindness and love. He deserved more than this but there was nothing more she could give.

Even after three years of knowing nothing about Jon’s whereabouts, if he was even alive, she would lie awake at night and wonder what could have been done differently, what she could have done differently to save him. But then her daughter wouldn’t exist and the guilt of even thinking such things made her cry herself to sleep.

Although she knew that he knew, her husband never questioned her.

Until the letter arrived.

Even without a signature, even three years after seeing it, she knew Jon’s writing instantly. Without thinking, her fingers had traced the words with all the gentleness of a lover’s caress.

“You will not invite him to stay here,” her husband stated firmly.

Although she knew it was a reasonable request, for what man would want his wife near the man who claimed her heart, it rattled her all the same.

“Jon is a Stark,” she affirmed, clear in the decision that Jon would be staying. Her husband blinked.

“I’m sincerely glad he isn’t, considering.”

He had turned and left and Sansa hated how all she could think was that Jon would have stayed, Jon would have pushed her for another reaction and then pushed again until she was using all her will power to stop herself throwing herself in his arms and letting all her anger out with burning desire.

***

Three years had changed Jon in many ways. He was scruffier than she remembered. His curls loose and beard rivalling Tormund’s nowadays. He had new scars too, across his temple, at the right corner of his jaw.

But some things hadn’t changed.

The way he smiled when he saw her, the softness of his eyes, the warmth of his embrace. She had been so overwhelmed at seeing him, throwing her arms around him and drinking him in she hadn’t even realised her fingers tracing the furs until she moved back and admired him.

“You kept it?” she whispered, hand unconsciously trailing down his chest before she could stop it.

“It’s a good cloak,” he replied. “I felt it was a better one to wear than the Nights Watch one.”

“Winterfell always welcomes brothers from the Nights Watch,” she said carefully, stepping further back as she met her husband’s eyes across the courtyard.

“I won’t impose on your hospitality long, I…”

“Mama!”

Jon’s response cut off as he turned to the voice of little Catelyn, peering out over the ramparts from the arms of her Septa. Her blue gaze looked at Jon curiously.

“I’m coming sweetheart,” Sansa called out in assurance before offering Jon an apologetic smile and departing the courtyard.

***

“I didn’t realise you had married.”

She could feel his gaze on her as she sat by her fire, sewing a new dress for Catelyn’s third name day.

“You were invited.” The words were harsher than she intended but she didn’t regret them. He had decided to become unreachable. So, he had no right to be surprised at the news.

“I hadn’t wanted to be found.”

Sansa remained silent, pushing the needle through far harsher than necessary. Years ago, the words would have made her cry, but she supposed she had no more tears left in her.

“Can you forgive me?”

She paused, head jerking up in surprise and she gifted him with a perplexed blink. “Pardon?”

“For abandoning you, for not trusting you, for…everything.”

_For breaking my heart? For making me feel a fool yet again for believing in love and songs and knights._

“You did what you had to do.”

It’s one thing Sansa can understand, and forgive him for, for she knows better than anyone what people may have to do to survive, to win the game and to protect those they love.

“Is he good to you?”

“Yes,” she responded curtly. “He is kind and he loves Catelyn very much.”

“She is the very double of you,” Jon murmured.

“And of her namesake.”

It was a cruel jab, she knew. But the euphoria of his return had been replaced by a gaping wound, a reminder of how much she has missed him and longed for him, of how she will only miss and long for him more after he is gone.

Jon remained silent but she knew him well enough to know that if she dared to look at him, he would be on the verge of tears.

It was the closest she came to crying herself in weeks.

***

“Why did you come Jon?”

She had wondered the question ever since the letter arrived. All that it had said was that the Lord Commander requested a visit to Winterfell.

She had thought he would come for men but he hadn’t mentioned the Nights Watch once. Then she thought perhaps he had just wanted to reunite with the only family within his reach but except for that night in her solar, she had barely seen him.

He doesn’t even spare her a glance from where he sat beneath the weirwood tree, staring out at the pools. It was Ghost who reacted to her, nudged his head against her hand until she scratched his ears.

Sighing, she turned away. She wouldn’t play these games anymore.

“I thought I could do it.”

She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him and waiting for him to continue.

“I thought I could look you in the eye and tell you I did what was necessary but it’s been years and I still feel like I done it wrong.”

“She would have killed everyone in her way if you…”

“I’m not talking about regretting killing her,” Jon snapped. “That is the only thing I can forgive myself for. It was just the method I hated…I didn’t want to trick her.”

She turned to face him completely but still couldn’t bring herself to move closer.

“I regret ever making you feel abandoned, that I had failed you.”

“You didn’t,” she protested weakly, because she knew he did in a way. He failed her dreams of love after all.

“I promised to protect you.”

“You did.” That was at least easier to admit to being true. He had killed his lover for her after all.

“I should have done more. I shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered,” Sansa sighed. “Maybe we would all have died. We’ll never know.”

“We’ll never know a lot of things,” he whispered.

The look he gave her then made her heart stop. She had last seen that look on him in the great hall, after the defeat of the Night King, but it hadn’t been directed at her.

She could have kissed him then, she knew, and he would have let her, he would have returned it. She could see it there in his eyes, the silent plea for her affections. But Sansa was half Stark and half Tully. Honour may be last in the Tully mantra but Ned Stark had been all about honour, and everything came back to family in the end whether by her mother or her father.

And Sansa cannot destroy the family she had made for herself, she cannot allow herself to rip her daughter’s world from beneath her feet, she cannot allow herself to hurt her husband anymore than she already has when he had done nothing to deserve it.

So, she turned and ran from the Godswood without a single glance back.

***

Jon bid her goodbye the next morning, his hug lingering far longer than was proper for someone who had once been called sister. But she allowed it all the same, because she could never know if this would be the last time.

She remained on the ramparts all morning, watching his form disappear over the horizon. She stayed for hours after he had disappeared.

Her husband found her there, as the sun was setting and Sansa couldn’t bare to meet his eyes. She had not been physical unfaithful but the truth was, she would always want Jon and she would choose him if she had the means to do so.

He clasped her hand gently in his own, waiting for her to look at him.

“Might you have forgotten him in time?” her husband asked softly, those soft eyes that had convinced her to take a chance on love again boring into her.

Sansa swallowed, unable to look upon his kind face as she admitted the truth that she had always truly known despite her deepest efforts to forget.

“That amount of time doesn’t exist.”


End file.
